In response to today’s Daily Prompt: Write an anonymous letter to someone you’re jealous of.
To my Hairdresser,
It is with great sadness that I write to cancel our next appointment. I have no excuse. I simply cannot afford you. I know our relationship is new, but already I sense a great lopsidedness to it. At our last session, I feigned interest while you considered aloud what questions you should ask applicants for a nanny position.
A nanny? Really?! I wanted to shout at you. Who can afford a nanny?
I pretended to commiserate, even as you told me the hourly rate you planned to pay your nanny – a wage only slightly less than what I make. If you can afford to pay someone that kind of money, you must be rolling in the dough. At the mercy of your undeniable artistic ability, I held my tongue. Anyone who can restyle my thick, unruly mess of hair into something sleek and sexy deserves millions of dollars. I wish I could pay you to come live with me and make me pretty every day. Instead, it sounds like you could pay me to wipe your children’s noses.
I admit, I was jealous when last I sat in your chair. Petite and stylish, you flaunted eye makeup that perfectly matched the not-quite-teal feather adornment in your dark hair, so striking against your alabaster skin. Sneaking glances in the mirror while you snipped at my hair, I saw myself as too tall and broad-shouldered. My complexion was too ruddy. You continued your soliloquy about an expensive fence you planned to have installed in your yard, and the nanny, of course.
I realize you did not intend to make me feel so meager. Maybe I should be flattered that you seem to think I, too, earn the big bucks. That you don’t realize how many hours I have to work at my job to pay for less than sixty minutes of your services should come as a compliment. How much of that money does the salon keep, and how much is yours? I wondered as I listened to you. It doesn’t matter. No matter how I do the math, I know that you make more money than I do. With all my book learning and hard work, I covet something you have – a trade, a real skill. You have gifted hands and they bring you a profitable income. I should be happy for you.
Jealousy is an ugly thing, and I really should work on overcoming it. But just as unattractive is your running commentary on the cost of landscaping and your wish to find a handyman desperate to make a buck. Oh, and those fine, dark hairs on your upper lip. Until we meet again, I can work on my jealousy issues, and you can bleach your mustache.